


A Magical (Cat)Boy Life

by chrokun (ChiaRoseKuro)



Series: Kuro's (Dropped) Zine Fics [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bad Jokes, Cats, Crack, Developing Friendships, Gen, Humor, Magical Boys, Mangaka Kozume Kenma, Mistaken Identity, Secret Identity, Threats of Violence, zine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiaRoseKuro/pseuds/chrokun
Summary: “Oh god, youhavewatchedMagical Boy M,” Monoma mutters under his breath, before he narrows his eyes at Kenma and asks, “How wouldyoulike to be mistaken for an anime character all the time?”He was a manga character first,Kenma wants to protest, but one look at Monoma’s pronounced sneer is enough to make him swallow his words. “I’ve never been compared to one,” he says instead, but takes another step back when Monoma’s entirefacedarkens.“Well, it’sterrible,” Monoma informs him through gritted teeth. “Do you know how many random pubescent teenage girls have tried to sneakpink ribbonsinto my hair? Some weird fanstalked me homeso they could sneak into my room at night and take mymeasurements, all because they wanted me to wear their self-made cosplaywithoutmy permission!”“That’s… interesting,” Kenma tells Monoma when he stops to gasp for air.Of all the things Kenma expects his new neighbour to be, the real-life version of his latest manga protagonist isnotone of them—and Monoma is determined to make that differenceveryclear to him.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Kozume Kenma, Kozume Kenma & Monoma Neito
Series: Kuro's (Dropped) Zine Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048873
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	A Magical (Cat)Boy Life

**Author's Note:**

> This story honestly wrote itself once I got the main story idea (which was something along the lines of 'Monoma Neito is modelled off someone in real life, but what is Monoma Neito was the model for a manga character?'), so... borderline crack happened, as is usually the case when my stories take on a life of their own. If you're not into my weird sense of humour, dramatic Monoma drama, Kenma's (and, by extension, my) confused muddling through the wonderful world of manga-creating and the odd mention of magical boy not-Monoma, then this is not the story for you. Press the 'back' button, spare yourself from my general insanity, and keep any potentially rude comments to yourself - otherwise, they'll be tossed to Nathaniel's fangirls for questionable purposes.
> 
> Special thanks to the BnHA x Haikyuu!! Volume 2 Zine for organizing the zine (even if I ended up dropping due to circumstances you can read about [here](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/2020/08/31/indefinite-writing-hiatus/)), [Suga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSugaPops) for cheer-reading (and continuing to remain in contact with me after I came crawling back from my radio silence), and my brain for deciding that the story should gain an extra thousand words now that it didn't need to conform to a word limit. This _was_ meant to be 2500 to 3000 words, but... well, it rather obviously isn't. I'd say it's Monoma's fault, but he might stuff me into a sparkling tutu if I meant it.

* * *

The dog-headed villain laughs, canines flashing red under the super blood moon bathing the city in its gloomy light. “Is this all you’ve got?” he asks mockingly. “A pathetic little stick and a _kitty?_ ”

“I have love on my side!” Nathaniel declares, hands shaking even as he levels his magic wand at the gloating villain. “A power you’ll never understand—because monsters like _you_ will never understand the human heart!”

“Then see if you can defeat me!” the villain arrogantly exclaims. “We’ll see who wins—your _love_ , or my secret power!”

“You can do it!” the little calico cat meows by Nathaniel’s feet. “Believe in yourself!”

A soft head rubs against Nathaniel’s trembling leg, even as the villain laughs and launches himself into the air, and then—

_Will Nathaniel Montgomery save the world again… or will the villain defeat our righteous hero? Find out in next week’s episode of **Magical Boy M**!_

“I wish they’d stop leaving cliffhangers in the anime,” Kenma mutters as the cheesy voiceover segues into the anime’s ending theme. “It makes people think the manga’s just as bad.”

Kenma glances down at the inked draft in front of him, five arcs and several chapters ahead of the episode he’d half-watched, and sets his pen down so he can switch off the TV.

Most other mangaka would draw in a studio—the company’s offered him assistants to assist with his drafts, and they’ve set aside a studio for him in case he ever changes his mind—but Kenma pats his table with a fond little smile on his face. It’d been on this table that he’d sketched out the concept for his first manga, after all, so how could he abandon it after all these years?

From a high school graduate with vague dreams of professional gaming to Puddington Cat, one of the industry’s most secretive mangaka—if someone had told him, all those years ago, that he’d be drawing for a living? Kenma would’ve probably ignored them and gone back to his gaming, but now…

How long has it been since he’s pulled an all-nighter to play new releases? How many all-nighters has he pulled to meet his deadlines instead? _Maybe it would’ve been simpler to be a pro gamer,_ Kenma thinks—but then he shakes his head and stumbles as he gets up from his seat.

As nice as it’d be to play on the world stage someday, he has a steady income from all the royalties to _Magical Boy M_ , _I’m Nyat a Shapeshifter!_ and _Assassin Volley_. People could say what they liked about his three quirky manga series (and he can mourn all the holidays he would’ve gotten as a pro gamer), but Kenma’s no longer that idealistic teenager who’d dreamt of dominating _League of Legends_.

_At least I can draw manga for longer,_ Kenma reassures himself as he shuffles into the kitchen, and smiles as he gets himself a cup of water.

The smile abruptly disappears when a loud _bang_ startles Kenma into dropping his cup.

Thankfully, the water mostly splashes into his sink—but the walls are thin in Kenma’s cheap apartment complex, and whoever’s outside is probably an elephant in disguise. The floor vibrates ever so slightly with their stomping or jumping or _whatever_ they’re doing, muffled curses filtering in through the thin walls, and he sighs as he drags a hand down his face.

As much as he wants to pretend there isn’t an elephant at his door…

Kenma shuffles to the door, eases it open a crack, and glares balefully out the gap.

But the man swearing at a misshapen box isn’t one of Kenma’s neighbours, and Kenma’s glare falters when the man jerks his head up and notices him. They stare at each other for long moments, neither side saying a word—until Kenma shuts the door with a quiet _click_.

It’s a face that’s all too familiar but shouldn’t be in front of his door. It’s a face that shouldn’t _exist_ , because Nathaniel Montgomery was the by-product of an eight-hour gaming marathon and six expired pudding cups—except the face staring back at him had been male, blond-haired and blue-eyed. The face that’d stared back at him was the exact same one he’d been labouring to perfect for the past three _years_ , and it should be _impossible_.

Kenma opens the door wide, rubs his eyes and blinks several times—but Nathaniel’s face is still staring quizzically back at him.

“You’re—”

“Monoma Neito,” the real-life version of Kenma’s manga protagonist says in a too-loud voice, “and if you ask me to transform into a _magical_ _boy_ , I’m going to use your head to mop my floor!”

Instantly, Kenma takes a step back and brings his hands up.

Something flashes across Nathaniel’s— _Monoma’s_ face at that, but he turns away with a huff before Kenma can figure out what it is. “Relax, I’m not going to _actually_ do that,” Monoma sighs as he nudges his box with an idle toe, but it’s not until Kenma lowers his arms that he darkly adds, “not unless you ask me to _cosplay_ that pastel idiot.”

“Idiot?” Kenma asks before he can help himself. “Nathaniel’s not that bad.”

“Oh god, you _have_ watched _Magical Boy M,_ ” Monoma mutters under his breath, before he narrows his eyes at Kenma and asks, “How would _you_ like to be mistaken for an anime character all the time?”

_He was a manga character first,_ Kenma wants to protest, but one look at Monoma’s pronounced sneer is enough to make him swallow his words. “I’ve never been compared to one,” he says instead, but takes another step back when Monoma’s entire _face_ darkens.

“Well, it’s _terrible,_ ” Monoma informs him through gritted teeth. “Do you know how many random pubescent teenage girls have tried to sneak _pink ribbons_ into my hair? Some weird fan _stalked me home_ so they could sneak into my room at night and take my _measurements_ , all because they wanted me to wear their self-made cosplay _without_ my permission!”

“That’s… interesting,” Kenma tells Monoma when he stops to gasp for air.

Apparently, it’s not what Monoma wants to hear.

“Interesting,” he hisses, and then shrieks, “ _Interesting?!_ Why don’t I find someone to draw _you_ in an emasculating manga and see how you feel?!”

Kenma fumbles for the door as Monoma storms towards him with murder in his eyes—but Monoma’s only taken two steps before he pauses mid-step. It’s a surreal scene made all the more surreal by his facial spasms and the foot that begins trembling mid-air, but before Kenma can shut the door in Monoma’s face…

Monoma takes a deep breath, turns his back to Kenma and says, “ _Anyway_ , I am _not_ a magical boy and I would _appreciate_ you remembering that.”

Kenma’s fingers twitch on his doorknob as he watches Monoma pick up his misshapen box and trudge to the neighbouring apartment, but Monoma nudges the door open and doesn’t emerge after a few minutes. He’d never once asked for Kenma’s name, hadn’t even really _done_ much beyond expressing his towering disdain for Nathaniel Montgomery and all things _Magical Boy M_ —

But Kenma rubs his eyes again, shuts the door behind himself, and wanders back to the draft that needs inking. _What an interesting person indeed,_ Kenma thinks to himself—and by the time Kenma’s stomach starts grumbling for food, there’s a thin stack of loose-leaf pages filled with rough sketches for a new arc.  
  


* * *

  
“Oh, you must be _kidding_ me,” Kenma hears as he’s climbing the last few steps to his floor. “What do I look like to you lot—some sort of portable food dispenser? Does my cologne smell of catnip to everyone _but_ me, perhaps?!”

The speaker’s back is towards Kenma when he exits the stairwell—but it’s not hard for him to see who it is, even with the cats draped over his thighs and shoulders. It’s the first time Kenma’s seen this many cats in one location, but for them to be clinging to someone as noisy as _Monoma?_

“No, I do _not_ have a sardine in my pocket!” Monoma scolds an inquisitive feline nosing at his jacket, and Kenma snorts before he can help himself.

Monoma’s head whips around, eyebrows scrunching and mouth opening wide in the beginnings of another loud complaint—but the rest of his body tries to turn as well. The rest of his body that’s squatting, weighed down with at least four full-grown cats and quite liberally dusted with cat fur—

And it’s no surprise at all that he falls heavily on his side, crying out even as cats yowl and scramble for freedom around him.

It’s so absurd that Kenma snorts again, but he’s crouching to lend a hand before he can stop himself. “Are you okay?” Kenma finds himself asking, and it’s such a stupid question that he winces at it.

Monoma stares at his hand for so long that Kenma almost thinks he’s hit his head—but when Kenma begins drawing his hand back, Monoma quickly latches onto it. “I’m surprised you didn’t just leave me to get up by myself,” he says in lieu of a response to Kenma’s question. “It’s not as though I was _nice_ to you when we first met.”

His voice is so neutral that Kenma arches a brow at him, but Monoma’s too busy getting up to look at Kenma’s face. “So I guess you live in the apartment next to mine,” Monoma adds in his oddly neutral voice, and Kenma’s other brow rises too.

Nathaniel Montgomery is naïve and a little slow, prone to laughter in awkward situations and good cheer in all others—but it’s clear that Monoma Neito is nothing like Kenma’s impulsive creation, and Kenma crosses his arms with a light nod.

“Yes, I’m Kozume Kenma,” he tells Monoma.

_And you’ll probably do **worse** things to my head if you ever found out I was Puddington Cat._

But Neito’s not a mind-reader—just as he’s not a magical boy—and he looks at Kenma with eyes that soon curve in a slight smile. “I hope we get along from now on,” he says in a voice so normal that Kenma almost thinks Monoma’s _not_ the one speaking, but then a cat twines around Monoma’s legs.

Kenma can count the number of times a cat’s approached him without any coaxing on one hand, but Monoma only sighs before patting the cat on its head. Another cat approaches him before Kenma can open his mouth, even as one more squeezes through a gap in the railing, and soon there’s three cats purring and rubbing themselves against Monoma’s shins.

“Are you a cat whisperer?” Kenma breathes almost noiselessly—but Monoma hears him and looks up with an odd smile on his lips.

“I wouldn’t know about that, Kozume-san,” Monoma replies with a little laugh, “but if you had me choose between a magical boy and a cat whisperer? Then I’d rather get swamped by cats _any_ day.”  
  


* * *

  
Kenma cradles his hands around the half-empty mug, gaze lowered to the fragrant tea inside even as his heart thuds in his chest. There’s no sound from the person in front of him—not beyond the quiet breaths and the soft susurration of flipping pages—but it’s not until Kenma’s almost done with his tea that Akaashi finally looks up.

“Has anything good happened to you lately?”

Kenma blinks at him, fingers tightening ever so slightly on his mug.

“Don’t worry, I’m just curious,” Akaashi adds with the faintest of smiles, taking off his glasses and folding them beside Kenma’s drafts. “It’s not as though your work wasn’t good to begin with, but there’s…”

Akaashi hums and taps his fingers on the edges of Kenma’s latest spread, carefully avoiding the drying lines of ink on the pages. It’d taken half a day to sketch it out and almost an entire _day_ to ink and colour Nathaniel and the three cats rubbing against his shins, and Kenma’s hands twitch from the memory of his cramping hands.

He’d enjoyed blending together volleyball and martial arts in _Assassin Volley_ and drew cats to his hearts’ content in _I’m Nyat a Shapeshifter!_ He’d accompanied Nathaniel Montogomery for the past two years, nurturing his airheaded protagonist from an awkward middle-schooler to an overpowered Gary Stu…

But as Kenma smiles a little from the memory and takes a sip of his tea, Akaashi says, “There’s more soul to your work now. It’s like… you’ve gone from observing Nathaniel to becoming his friend.”

Kenma almost chokes and drops his mug.

Because this is _Akaashi_ saying that—the very same Akaashi that defended his decision to work on his manga alone, in the comfort of his own home, without assistants or other external help. He’d taken in a no-name mangaka with dreams three sizes too big, turned down offers to edit for more popular serialisations as _I’m Nyat a Shapeshifter!_ had slowly gained traction, and stuck with Kenma through the cancellation of _Assassin Volley_ and the conception of _Magical Boy M_.

Akaashi had never complained—and Kenma will always be grateful for that—but they had both known that _Magical Boy M_ could never compete with _Assassin Volley_ in Kenma’s heart. Popularity had nothing to do with passion when it came to Kenma’s work, so for Akaashi to _see_ his passion grow after Monoma Neito had come into his life…

“Oh,” Kenma whispers, and pretends his misty eyes are from the steam rising up from his mug.

“It’s different, but I think your readers will like this new arc,” Akaashi continues placidly, like he can’t see Kenma half-hiding behind his mug. “Let me know if you need an extension or any other help, okay?”

He doesn’t ask further questions about Kenma’s new fit of inspiration. He doesn’t offer words of comfort or other meaningless blather, like other people might at the sight of Kenma’s misty eyes. It’s one of the many things about Akaashi that Kenma’s grateful for—beyond their professional lives and the other obvious factors—and Akaashi doesn’t say a word when Kenma gives him an entire box of frozen apple pies before he leaves.

_Become Nathaniel’s friend?_ Kenma thinks, long after Akaashi’s left and he’s alone in his apartment once more. _I guess you could say I did_.

And when Monoma comes knocking minutes later, a cheese wheel in one hand and fancy French wine in the other, Kenma lets him in with a little smile neither of them notice.  
  


* * *

  
“Do you know what my cousin _said_ to me? Do you know what my cousin _did?!_ ”

“I’m not sure I do,” Kenma tries to say—

But Monoma’s throwing his arms in the air and shrieking, “She tried to frame me for _her_ crimes and get me arrested! _Me,_ a perfectly law-abiding citizen! And then she tried to ask me to _bail her out_ , on top of that, like she thinks our familial relationships _mean_ something after her betrayal!”

Kenma leans back as subtly as he can when Monoma lets his arms flop down, chest heaving and eyes faintly bloodshot—but then Monoma yells, “Her parents are baboons! Her entire _family_ are baboons!”

Somebody else might’ve let Monoma continue venting, but Kenma’s lips twitch before he says, “So you are, by definition…”

Monoma swivels around to stare at him.

“A zookeeper,” Monoma primly replies, though his smile is a little less smug than it should be. “ _Someone_ has to keep them all in line, if they’re all brainless _animals_.”

Kenma’s helpless to do anything but snort in response. It’s in moments like these, when Monoma’s angrily chewing on his wedge of cheese and muttering curses under his breath, that Kenma wonders how he _ever_ mistook Monoma Neito for Nathaniel Montgomery.

“But enough about me,” Monoma hums when he’s done sulking, waving an airy hand about. “How’s your day been, neighbour? I thought I saw a friend waltz out of your door earlier—it’s nice to know you have friends other than me!”

“Mm,” Kenma mumbles, just to see Monoma puff his cheeks and make a thoroughly disgusted noise at his refusal to speak. When Monoma’s done with his little hissy fit, though, Kenma shrugs and adds, “It was alright.”

Monoma makes another disgusted noise and rolls his eyes so hard that Kenma’s amazed they don’t roll right out of his _head_. It’s easy to forget that Monoma’s not a manga character—even if he’s vastly different from Nathaniel, his frequent bouts of melodrama make Kenma wonder, sometimes.

“You are not going to _die_ if you speak more than ten words at a time, Kenma,” Monoma tells him after another aggrieved bite of his cheese, “and really, it’s not like you’re a secret agent or anything of the sort.

“Unless…” Monoma lets his words trail off as he squints at Kenma, but shakes his head after a moment. “Someone with hair like yours? No, definitely not covert enough.”

“What do you think I am, then?”

It’s meant to be an offhand question, but Monoma sizes Kenma up with a cool, considering gaze before muttering, “A job that suits a homebody. Your friend walked away with a satchel too, and I always see pens and paper littering your apartment… an artist? Or perhaps a writer?”

Kenma can’t stop his eyes widening in time, if the triumphant noise Monoma makes is anything to go by. Thankfully, he hasn’t guessed exactly _what_ Kenma does—but for all that Monoma is entertainingly prissy, there’s more to him than his dramatics and his odd physical resemblance to Nathaniel, and Kenma is all too aware of it.

It’s the reason why he neither nods nor shakes his head. It’s also the reason why he nudges an elbow to the uncoloured drafts of _Magical Boy M_ he hadn’t gotten around to cleaning up, just so they’re a little further out of Monoma’s line of sight.

Unfortunately, they’re still _in_ Monoma’s line of sight—and before Kenma can drop his mug and slap a hand over the incriminating pages, Monoma crows in triumph and _dives_ for them.

“Hide something from _me?_ I don’t think so, Pudding-head!” Monoma yells, swiping the pages and taking off across the room in a loud cackle. “You might be a cryptid to the rest of society, but _I_ will—”

Kenma watches Monoma cut himself off, blink at the pages he’s holding, then flip through them with increasing speed. He knows _exactly_ what they contain—meticulously lined panels of Nathaniel in all his magical-boy, pastel glory, in a style too distinct to be mistaken for anyone’s other than Puddington Cat’s—but he can’t break the deathly silence in his apartment.

Monoma is not exactly a friend Kenma would’ve chosen to make… but as Monoma looks up, Kenma finds himself averting his gaze and shrinking into himself.

“Kenma.”

Kenma doesn’t move a muscle.

“Kozume Kenma, _look_ at me.”

Kenma squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head—if his slight twitch can even be called that.

Three heavy footfalls, a rustle of paper, and then—

“I cannot _believe_ I never connected the dots.”

Kenma ducks his head, expecting a slap to the head at any moment—but then Monoma laughs in an odd voice he’s never heard before. It’s so odd, in fact, that Kenma finds himself peeking through his fringe before he’s aware of it, but the expression on Monoma’s face is even _odder_.

He’s not visibly angry, for one. He doesn’t even look _disgusted_ , and Kenma thinks he’ll _never_ reach the end of the list of things Monoma’s disgusted by.

For whatever reason, Monoma looks _excited_ , and Kenma blinks as Monoma throws his head back and laughs again. In between his bouts of laughter, Kenma hears Monoma exclaim, “Your hair looks like a pudding and you’re obsessed with cats. You looked so _offended_ when I called Nathaniel a pastel idiot—I just thought you were yet _another_ diehard fan of _Magical Boy M_ , but you were the _creator_ all along!

“All this time, and Puddington Cat was right under my very _nose!_ ” Monoma collapses into his seat, hiccups, then fans his face with Kenma’s drafts—which Kenma would really rather he _not_ do, but what can he do about it? “Oh Neito, you complete and utter _fool_.”

“Are you… angry at me?” Kenma asks, when Monoma continues to switch between laughing and staring silently off into space. “I mean,” he adds in a tiny voice, shrinking into himself again when Monoma pins him with an intense look, “you, uh, don’t like Nathaniel much.”

“Well, you’re right,” Monoma says after a very long pause, “I _don’t_ like that pastel idiot. But now that I know who you _are_ …”

A hand falls on Kenma’s shoulder and squeezes it gently.

“Let’s discuss the _finer_ points of Nathaniel and _Magical Boy M_ , shall we?”  
  


* * *

  
Nathaniel pillows his head on his arms and stares listlessly out the window, more interested in the falling sakura petals than his literature teacher’s droning voice. It’s a beautiful spring day—but here he is, stuck inside with lessons that don’t interest him, and his eyelids begin drooping.

“Nathaniel,” a distant voice calls to him. “Nathaniel Montgomery, are you _listening_ to me?”

Nathaniel’s eyes fall shut… but they spring wide open seconds later, just as everyone else’s in the room shuts and heads thud onto desks—or the floor, in the unfortunate teacher’s case.

“I can’t believe the Sandman almost had me,” Nathaniel mutters as he jumps up from his seat and the pen in his hand lengthens into a magical wand, “but I won’t let him off now! Not after he’s attacked my beloved school!”

A flick of his wrist to open the window, a quick apology for his table—and then, as Nathaniel leaps onto his table and somersaults out the window—

_Will Nathaniel Montgomery be able to defeat the Sandman, or will the world fall into eternal sleep? Don’t look away— **Magical Boy M** will be back after a short break!_

“You’re right,” Monoma says in between mouthfuls of popcorn, “they really _do_ like leaving cliffhangers on the anime. I’m not sure I’d want to audition for the live-action adaptation if it means condoning _this_ sort of shoddy production.”

“I heard the director will be different,” Kenma quietly offers, “and it’ll be a live-action film, since films are cheaper to produce.”

“You have _no_ idea how the film industry works, do you?” Monoma asks, sighing and giving Kenma a pitying look.

Kenma shrugs and busies himself with his apple pie. It’s not like he’ll ever go into acting—or any other position in the film industry, short of becoming an old-school animator—so why should he bother? When Monoma gives him the evil eye for his silence, though, Kenma sighs and mumbles, “Don’t care.”

“Well, you _should_ ,” Monoma huffs. “Your good friend—the one that _could’ve_ charged you royalties for using his life story but chose _not_ to out of the goodness of his heart, mind you—will be making his debut in the film industry soon! And all for _your_ manga, too!”

“Mn,” Kenma eloquently replies.

Monoma mutters something that sounds like _you are **not** going to strangle him, Monoma Neito, you **need** this job after the zookeeper one fell through_, but Kenma waits until Monoma’s quiet again before he says, “I guess I could speak to the director.”

Instantly, Monoma perks up and gives Kenma a brilliant smile.

“But you know you’ll need to cosplay as Nathaniel to act as him, don’t you?” Kenma asks, before Monoma can so much as thank him aloud. “And you might get more stalkers breaking into your home to put pink bows in your hair.”

There’s a moment when Kenma can _see_ Monoma’s sensibilities war with his desire for riches and fame, but then Monoma shakes his head and exclaims, “You think you can dissuade me from my big break? As _if_ such petty concerns will hold me back!”

It’s not just Monoma, though—as his neighbour and what might possibly be his closest friend, Kenma will inevitably get caught up with the media if Monoma _does_ end up famous. This is vastly different from being Puddington Cat, a reclusive mangaka whose only link to the industry is his tight-lipped editor, or even applepi, the faceless gamer that once took an amateur LoL tournament by storm.

Helping Monoma get cast for the live adaptation of _Magical Boy M_ could very well destroy his peaceful life, but after everything Monoma’s done for Nathaniel?

Kenma sighs, finishes off his apple pie, and smiles lightly to himself. He would’ve never thought his life would become like this after he’d been disturbed by stomping outside his apartment…

_But it could be worse,_ Kenma thinks, and shushes Monoma in time to catch the rest of the episode.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm starting to become a little more active on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/chroku_n), so come say hello or poke around there if you'd like. Alternately, if you'd like more information on the story and my thoughts on it, I finally bothered writing extended notes for my stories again! You can find it on my [writing blog](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/) if you so desire.
> 
> (It will probably come as no surprise that I was assigned Kenma, not Monoma, as my focal character... but in my defense, I am a dirty Monoma stan, and he has a funny way of making me write about him even if he's not meant to be the main character)


End file.
